I'm pretty sure 2012 is doomed for me, and not just because of the End of Days as predicted by the Mayans (way to be a bummer, Mayans, ending things on December 21, just before Christmas but not until AFTER I will have bought everyone's presents--can I redeem my AmEx points from hell?) and potentially saved by receding-hairline Lloyd Dobler (I never saw that movie--what happens?)
No, my year has been karmically fucked by a bagel with a schmear.
See, yesterday Jeff and I went for a jaunty New Year's Stroll, accompanied by our Adorable Spawn. I'm sure we looked like a slightly downmarket J. Crew ad--something you would find in a crumpled Sears catalog your dad keeps in the bathroom next to the toilet. Anyway. The world was our oyster, and then we went to Bageltique Cafe.
I know. I KNOW. I had no business eating a mound of dough that puts on such ridiculous airs. BagelTIQUE? Are we en France? Are we wearing striped boater shirts and carrying baguettes and putting curly little penises on our lowercase c's? (Incidentally, my neighborhood also has a restaurant called La Bagel Delight). So that was my first mistake.
My next mistake was thinking that the universe owed me a free bagel. It was around noon the morning after the annual holiday most likely to end in excess drunkenness, ill-advised make-out sessions and ugly crying, and so even though Bageltique was out of everything bagels (it really IS the end times, y'all) the line was long with bleary-eyed twentysomethings eager to gulp down weak coffee and danish in the hopes of filling the pits of their stomachs with something other than regret. The guy behind the counter was taking orders at lightning speed. I think he thought someone else was ringing up customers. But no one was. So a team of three (no doubt hungover) guys were killing themselves to make food that no one was paying for.
I know. I KNOW. I'm an asshole.
I thought they would take my money when they handed me our breakfast. But no one did. And at first I thought, Free bagels! What a good omen for the new year! Sure, it's no everything bagel. But it's something!
But then it dawned on me as we continued our walk, noshing on our Euro-chic boiled rings: That was not a good omen. That was my test.
If I had given the harried Korean man my $5, I would have had a good year. If I had been a good Samaritan and told them they were giving all of their food away for free, then I would be writing this post from the deck of my yacht, to inform you all of my book deal and unseasonably good hair.
But as soon as I realized my misdeed, the baby woke up and started crying, I spilled coffee on my coat, and I'm pretty sure I felt a chin hair sprout.
There's no hope for me; save yourselves.
Happy New Year.